If This is Death
by Small J
Summary: Obi-Wan was fine. The wound had been checked, so why did it still hurt? If I wake up, will the pain be gone? Where am I, anyway. If this is the "living Force" no wonder my master likes it. Maybe I can just...rest my eyes a bit more, before I wake up.
1. Teaser

**Chapter rating**: K

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Star Wars or Obi-Wan but if I win tickets to the Star Wars Celebration in Florida I will be sure to beg George for the rights.

Sorry for the shortness, but this is one of those dreaded preview chapters. If it gets your attention, by all means, let me know and read on. If not, sorry, but there are still plenty of good things to read if you go back.

* * *

The sky was beautiful. The lightest shade of blue imaginable snuck its way between bright cottony clouds. The puffy masses seemed to float in slow motion, contradicting the pleasant breeze ruffling the trees below. Swaying to and fro, lush green limbs sang as orange petals rained to the crisp grass.

It was a beautiful sight to lay under, gazing with lazy interest as the soft flowers snowed around his body. Jedi apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi closed his eyes and entailed deeply as a whole blossom floated to a stop on his forehead.

He smiled.

Obi-Wan was short and slender, bordering on lanky. His hair shone in the bright morning light, the soft sandy browns highlighted with random strands of exotic reds. He turned his head, smelling the sweet grass, his padawan braid tickling his neck. Raising a hand, he lazily plucked the wayward blossom from where it had fallen off his head, bringing it to his nose. For an orange flow the blossom smelled oddly of grapes. His smile widened as he tucked the flower behind his ear.

Stretching, the teen pulled his arms to rest behind his head as he once more turned his attention back to the leaves and clouds and sky.

What a wonderful place to die in.


	2. Why?

**Chapter Rating**: K+ for safety. I used one "bad" word. Shit isn't a bad word, but apparently my local word filter says it is. It sure isn't coarse language!

**Summary**: Obi-Wan is back from a mission and can't sleep. Why? Can Yoda help?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the character or the universe but I do own the scenario. That's something, right?

**Author note**: I have a plan, but, like always, I may very well pull things from out of thin air and change them. If you see future chapters go a totally different way from what you expected…go me! Comments are welcome, as always, and happy readings.

* * *

"Master, why do you always defy the counsel in this?"

Obi-Wan was tired. So very tired. Master Yoda had taken him aside after his very brief debriefing and asked him to talk to his master. While he would do anything the aged master could ask, this was always a hard one. Obi-Wan always talked to his master. The problem was getting him to listen. Vaguely, he wondered if maybe this was a pre-trial, trial. Did any master listen to their apprentices?

"We have been through this, my apprentice."

Master Qui-Gon Jinn stood to his full height, towering over the youth. His shoulder length hair pulled tightly back in his usual style made his stern face seem menacing in the pale light of the evening. He looked down, staring his apprentice in the eyes, arms tucked serenely in his robe sleeves.

Obi-Wan could only look into his master eyes for a brief moment before his eyes flickered away. It was enough for his master.

"In the future, Padawan, I would not always do as Master Yoda requests."

Obi-Wan flinched before following his master down the warm halls, a muttered "yes master" falling from his lips.

The night was stunning, as usual. The lights from the many buildings seemed to never turn off. Even in the day, they appeared to glow. Now, well into the night, they didn't so much as glow as emit ray after ray of neon light. Speeders streaked by in the fast lanes, blurs of white and red lights, while slower lanes crawled in a parade of fantastic color.

He should have been asleep. Obi-Wan scrubbed at his eyes, wondering why he was even awake. They had only gotten back to the temple hours before. The mission itself was one mistake after another. The treaty had been signed, after three weeks of hard work, only to have it broken as the Jedi were leaving. The explosion had left him stunned. Had all that work truly been for nothing? The young Jedi rested a hand on his hip, messaging the sore bone. The blast had been far enough away not to kill anyone, but it had been close enough to knock a few people around. Qui-Gon had landed hard on the open ramp of the ship. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had been farther away from the ship, returning a forgotten pen.

It was silly, he thought, that I should be wounded in action because I wanted to return a pen.

His master had thought it kind and compassionate of him. It was the senator's daughter's pen. She had lent it to him when his had gone missing. She was only five but was more then honored to let the "magic man" us her lucky coloring pen. Looking back, he could laugh at himself. The blast was near the second entrance to the landing platform, not too far from the loading bay. Obi-Wan had been tossed back into a speeder before being pelted with shrapnel from the blast. One piece had been a broken sword. Twin blades crossed over a lotus was the symbol of the people and had hung gracefully above every doorway. Remembering the sharp pain of the blade stabbing into his flesh made him never want to see a real sword again.

He sighed. He really should be asleep, so why was he still awake? Why was he not in his apartment, at least, snuggled into the couch with his robe?

"I night wraith, do I see. Oddly familiar, it is. Should I fear, mmm?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as his lip twitched in a ghost of a smile. Turning around, he spied the small green master slowly tapping his way along the corridor. Kneeling down, he greeted the wise master.

"Good evening, Master Yoda. What are you do up and around? Oh, and, no, you shouldn't fear. I would only get stronger."

Yoda chuckled softly, the sound seeming to echo louder in the hall then his walking stick. "Oh, so the dark side, you are, to be stronger in fear. Sad day for the Jedi, this is." He shook his head and clicked his walking stick onto the hard floor.

"Will have to destroy you know, we will. Wait here, you should, while fetch more Jedi, I do."

Obi-Wan snorted as he shook his head lightly. Master Yoda truly had a sense of humor, if only others would take the time to find it.

The green master reached a wrinkled had up to lightly grasp at Obi-Wan's braid. "Sleep you should, my padawan, yet walk the halls, you do. Why?"

Obi-Wan tilted his head to one side, thinking. "I am tired master. Truly, I am. The more I try to sleep the more I stay awake. My leg hurts no matter what I take for it. It feels like it is spreading. Now it's almost down to my toes and up to my ribs. I am almost frightened to sleep."

Yoda looked at his young friend, seeming to look through to his very mind. "Afraid, you say?"

"I can't explain it," Obi-Wan began, "every time I begin to fall asleep, something tugs me awake. I feel my heart beat so hard I think it will crack right out of my chest. I begin to sweat and I can't breath."

"Mmmm. Strange, this is. Seek a healer, you have?"

"Yes, Master. They have found nothing wrong. Its like the force doesn't wish me to sleep until I have figured something out. I would like it to give me a clue. I'm just too tired to see it."

"A clue you have, young apprentice. Felt this way before, you have." With that, he let go of the braid only to pat Obi-Wan's knee.

The young apprentice flinched at the contact. He had figured it was something to do with the wound but had yet to figure out how. It had been looked at already. Cleaned, checked, bandaged, scanned, anything and everything to make sure the old blade had not infected him with anything or caused major damage to the joint. Obi-Wan thought of injuries he had sustained in the past, comparing them on the scale of pain and how long the pain had persisted. He had only remembered feeling the same burning sensation once before.

"Master Yoda," he said, disbelief evident, "I have felt something like this, but it couldn't possibly be it. That was from a poisoned spear-tip. I was hardly in any form to talk, let alone walk. If I remember correctly, I was delirious at the best of times. If there had been poison, the scans would have shown it."

"Possible it is. New to the republic, the planet is. Little do we know. From where did the blade come?"

"Master, we may know little, but I find it hard to believe the people put poison on a blade meant for decoration."

"Breaking a treaty only hours old, is easier to believe, mmm?"

Obi-Wan found himself flinching once more. It was a bad habit we had picked up on a mission long passed and for another time to remember.

"Nothing showed up on the scans."

"Little we know."

Both Jedi looked at each other, unwavering.

"Alright," the younger broke, "I'll go back to the healers, howev…"

Yoda's ears pushed forward as Obi-Wan broke off, clutching his side.

"That…" he rasped breathlessly, "hurts." Gasping, he dropped his other knee to rest on the cold floor. "Master, I..ah….shit…" Gritting his teeth he clutched his side doubling over as his forehead nearly brushed the ground.

It hurt. Like nothing else he had ever felt. Distantly, he head Master Yoda call for help over his comm. unit. Flashes of colors and lights danced before his tightly clenched eyes. In any right mind he would have been happy to appreciate the vibrant blend of colors. Right now, however, he felt his side burn. Acid, he managed through the pain, might feel better then this. Pulling what semblance of order he could, Obi-Wan reached out to the force, trying to draw the comfort around his body. He gasped, his focus dropping, the Force slipping away. He couldn't banish the pain into the Force.

Hands, hands were touching him. Sounds, voices, they were talking to him, he knew they were.

"AH!"

Something had touched his side, it hurt. _Force it hurts, don't touch it!_

More hands scrambled to hold him still. Something was wet. His hand clutching his side. His tunic was wet, why was it wet?

A bright light flashed behind his eyes as hands pried his own clutch open. Fresh pain blossomed across his lower ribs as the hands pulled at his tunic. Didn't they hear him the first time! It hurt, Force-damn it, stop touching me!

He smelled something sterile. That super clean scent that only hospitals and medical words could manage.

He could hear wrappers opening, material shredding. Had they cut open his tunic? What was that copper smell? Now his throat hurt. Had he been screaming?

Obi-Wan weekly fought as a mask was forced over his face. Those hands were back, holding his shoulders, stroking his face, AH! Don't touch my rib!

_Obi…._

Wait…

_Obi-Wan…_

So tired, want to sleep, let me sleep, pain is going away, I just need sleep…Master…I just need sleep.

_Hold on, my apprentice, we are going to help you, just hold on_

That hand was back, brushing his face. Why didn't he recognize that hand? That broad, calloused hand.

_Qui…_

Darkness engulfed the student before he could acknowledge his revelation.


	3. Want

**Chapter Rating**: K

**Summary**: So what happened? Why did he collapse and what will his master do?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the character or the universe but I do own the scenario. That's something, right?

**Author note**: I have a plan, but, like always, I may very well pull things from out of thin air and change them. If you see future chapters go a totally different way from what you expected…go me! Comments are welcome, as always, and happy readings.

* * *

Master Yoda paced along the corridor, his walking stick clicking softly in his wake. Jedi Master Mace Windu sat in the lone chair stationed outside the medical ward. Leaning forward, the dark skinned man rested his elbows on his knees, interlacing his fingers to rest nervously under his chin. He had been twisting and wringing his robe for the past hour.

Yoda paused, ears perking forward a moment before they once more dropped with his shoulders. The aged master seemed to melt in on himself as he turned to resume his pacing. Mace followed the master with his eyes as Yoda, once more, stopped before the window, glanced in, and turned to pace once more. Windu risked a glance into the room, involuntarily wincing at the sight.

Master Qui-Gon Jinn sat on the edge of a bed, his shoulders hunched in much the same way as Master Yoda's were. He wore no cloak to weigh him down. The light sleep shirt and pants were wrinkled, a clear demonstration to what he had been doing when his apprentice had collapsed. His hair hung limp at his shoulders with no tie to prevent its fall into his weathered face. Glancing down, Mace could see the broad hand clutching his students pale fingers as they rested on the sheet.

Obi-Wan.

He was pale, beyond pale, he was almost ghostly. The sheets rested across his stomach as a med-droid checked the wires and tubes across his chest and mouth. He had been lucky, they were all told. The shrapnel from the blade had been taken out, but that wasn't the problem. More then just the blade had hit. A piece of…something, had lodged itself into his side. What was the biggest concern at the time wasn't how it had gotten there, but how it had escaped the notice of so many tests.

_The trouble of technology_, Mace thought, _is that it is only as good as the one who designed it._

The object had been some sort of plastic. The droids had been sent to look for metal objects that could be related to the initial wound. They wouldn't detect a sharp plastic.

The Med-droid rolled out of the room, stopping in front of Mace. Yoda stopped pacing and moved to stand by his dear friend.

"Do we know what happened, exactly?" inquired the dark skinned master, raising an eyebrow.

The droid clicked and whirred as it processed the record.

"A piece of shrapnel lodged itself into Apprentice Kenobi's side. When Apprentice Kenobi arrived from off planet, he had already treated the minor wounds. The cut on his side seemed little more then a scratch. It was only a few centimeters deep and just as wide. We deemed his leg the biggest priority."

Mace looked to Yoda, questioning. "He would have had a small supply of bacta on board. The cut may have been deeper at one time. An entry wouldn't have been noticed if there had been no pain. Please," here he glanced back to the droid, "continue."

"Yes Master Windu. The shrapnel lodged itself in apprentice Kenobi's abdominal muscle where it then traveled to his vital organs."

Yoda's ears perked forward, concern etched into his features. "What means this, for his condition?"

The Med-droid clicked and whirred again. "Apprentice Kenobi hemorrhaged internally. The shrapnel shifted itself onto his kidney, causing massive bleeding. The medication apprentice Kenobi was given for the pain may have thinned his blood enough to prevent clotting. The anticoagulant effect only lasts a few hours. However, the amount and time of the medication may have kept the side-effect from diminishing. Bleeding out would have been very swift if he had been alone."

"Could not sleep, he said. The Force, he told me." Yoda's gaze shifted to the floor. "Trying not to disturb his tired master, so went for a walk, he did." He signed, "Glad to have found him, I am."

Qui-Gon's shoulders slumped. To any passersby it would look like the weight of the universe had been set on his shoulders. His hair shifted in the light circulation of the room air, brushing his weary eyes. Blinking, his gaze turned from the pale fingers he held to the face that now haunted him. Stormy eyes were shuttered behind thin eyelids, lush lashes falling asleep on white cheeks. Qui-Gon could almost convince himself that his student was simply sleeping. Almost, for a thick tube protruded from his students mouth, taped across his jaw. Attached, another set of tubes and wires monitored the air flowing in and out.

He had been told the tube was a precaution, that his lungs were holding up, that they just wanted to be sure he could, and would, breathe on his own. Qui-Gon wanted the tube out immediately. He wanted his student to breathe on his own. He wanted…

Qui-Gon shook his head. He wanted a lot of things at this moment. More then he had ever wanted in his life. He had remembered in his youth wanting to be a Jedi more then anything. He remembered being an apprentice and wanting to make his master proud. He had remembered his Knighting and wanting an apprentice. He remembered never wanting an apprentice again. Now, now he couldn't imagine a life without one. Without his Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon snorted, clutching Obi-Wan's hand between his large callused fingers. He had fought the boy every step of the way. Even when the Force sang with the rightness of the team, he had stamped it down. That had changed. It had been so swift, so sudden that he had simply blurted it out. He hadn't even asked the boy to be his apprentice, rather, he called him "my apprentice" before he even knew he had said it.

He smiled, looking over to the bedside table. Resting there was a rock. To anyone else, it was simply a rock, but not them. Obi-Wan treasured the gift he had received since it had saved him. Qui-Gon was happy when his student had discovered the rocks little secret. Although, his student still found it amusing to tease him about his gift ideas.

"_What will you get me this year, master, a Force sensitive broccoflower?"_

"_I don't know, my apprentice. I am thinking more along the lines of a Force sensitive lamp. Maybe some boxes. They may help you keep your room clean."_

Master Windu had seen that conversation play out and swore to send them to the mind healers if he ever heard anything like it again. Master Yoda had chuckled and politely suggested Force sensitive socks, so he would always be able to find them. Just that morning, before his world was torn apart, Obi-Wan had started the old joke again. It was getting close, as he said. Truth be told, Qui-Gon had another three months, but his apprentice had very little cause to tease him at any other time.

Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered but remained closed. Qui-Gon let out a huff of air. He had seen that several times now and every time he expected his student's eyes to flutter open and protest the breathing tube.

The sound of the door sliding open tore Qui-Gon's eyes from his student.

"My masters." He said evenly, nodding his head slightly before turning his gaze back where he thought it belonged.

The green toned master hobbled to the left of the bed as Mace rounded to the right, standing next to his long time friend.

"His eyes keep fluttering. Do you think he is in pain?"

Mace studied Obi-Wan's face, taking in the sight before answering, "No. I don't feel he is."

"No pain, do I sense. Confusion, yes, and peace."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, reaching out to the Force, drawing it tight against him. He could feel Obi-Wan in his mind. Just in the back, an almost tickling sensation. That was one of the things he enjoyed about his bond with the young man. He could always tell the boy was there. In the morning, there was a warm and bright sensation letting him know his student was still asleep. In the afternoon, he could almost hear a light buzz indicating his student was on his way back from classes and in need of mediation. There were moments of cold ice, like his mind had been dunked into a frozen lake. That meant his student was struggling with something big. They could not speak with each other clearly through their link, but he understood Obi-Wan as clearly as he could himself. Now, he was thrown into something unknown. He had never felt this sensation from Obi-Wan before. It was warm and felt serene, yet it was drawn tight against itself, like it was waiting to snap.

"Master Yoda," he began, his eyes ever watchful of his student, "I sense something…different with Obi-Wan. There is a warm sensation, yet it doesn't feel particularly safe. I can not explain it." He voice seemed to crack and droop with the rest of is body. The master was exhausted but would not be forced out.

"Work in strange ways, the Force does. Alive, he is. Question how and why, we should not. Keep him here, we will. Sense his time is near, I do not."

With that, the elder master tapped his way out of the room, ears perked, as if listening to the Force through them.

Mace rested a broad hand on his friends shoulder as the graying master bowed his head and silently wept.

* * *

Ok, clarification time. From the last chapter:

1) _"Something was wet. His hand clutching his side. His tunic was wet, why was it wet?"_

Notice I said "_his hand_". Sometimes, when you are in states of shock or immense pain your brain doesn't register things properly. So, his hand was sweaty and he was clutching his tunic, so his brain put one and two together and got five. Basically, his tunic wasn't wet, he wasn't bleeding. His brain was just being screwy.

2) I know nothing about anatomy. I did some base research as to where everything was and prayed. I do know that, yes, shrapnel can get into your blood and travel to vital organs causing massive amounts of trouble and can cause internal bleeding if it punctures something vital. Add that to the fact that there are, really, pain meds that will cause your blood to stop clotting and you have trouble. This is seen in some non-asprin products. That is why you are not supposed to take a lot of pain meds. Also caffeine. Caffeine can supposedly cause your blood to thin if you drink too much too often.

3) Breathing tube=no fun. There are a number of procedures that doctors do that they will stick that tube down your throat just in case. Pretty much when ever they can, really. Plus, it makes a really scary visual, doesn't it. Having a tube down your throat, even in a just in case scenario, can make anyone look weak and defenseless.

If you have any comments, concerns or just want to chat, send up a review. They are nice and used to warm my room so I can type. Except the cold ones, those are used to keep the slush puppies slushy!


	4. Meant to Be

**Chapter Rating**: K

**Summary**: In which Qui-Gon occupies his time and Obi-Wan meets an interesting person. But is she good or bad?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the character or the universe but I do own the scenario. That's something, right?

**Archive: **Got an odd question a few days back on LiveJournal. Um, I don't mind archive sites, per say, but please, let me know if for some reason you want to nab this story for one. I don't think I will archive my stories anywhere but and my LiveJournal, but who knows, I may send it other places in the future. I'll let you know if that day ever dawns.

**Author note**: There are a LOT of jumps in this. I just…kept getting distracted and ended up changing scenes a lot. I broke them up with lines, so I hope they make sense. Let me know if they were too confusion. I will try to keep them to a minimum in the future.

* * *

It was dark.

He opened his eyes, or he thought he did. Darkness was all be could see, all he could really feel but…wait. No, there was light. Right there, a pin of light.

Am I walking? One leg in front of the other, Obi-Wan. It feels like I'm walking. Oh, the light is getting bigger. Is that a tree? I smell grass.

Oh, that's…dear Force, no!

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees, not knowing what else to do. He had walked to the single source of light. Now, he wished to find the way back. Around him was desolate. Dead trees stood, some collapsed, scattered around a vast waste. The distant smell of smoke hung in the air, heavy on his senses.

He glanced to his left.

A run down shack, just managing to hang on with rusted nails was centered behind a peeling white fence. Surrounding it all, the sun blazed, warm and inviting.

"Where am I?" He asked the air.

"You are here."

Obi-Wan jumped to his feet, his lightsaber a blur in his hand as he crouched into a defensive stance. There before him stood a women dressed in the robes of a Jedi. Without any thought as to why, Obi-Wan relaxed his stance, his weapon pointing to the barren earth.

"Who are you?" he asked, "where am I?"

The women smiled, pale green eyes glittering under deep red hair. "What do you remember last?" She questioned, ignoring his request.

He thought a moment, suddenly unsure if he should trust her. He tried to reach into the Force, even for a glance, but found he couldn't feel it. More alert now, he answered slowly.

"I remember…Len'cek Prime. My master and I had just wrapped up negotiations. We were leaving. I…I think there was…no, something went wrong. We failed that mission. I know something went wrong."

She smiled, "I am Knight Nevara Tenn. Everything is going to be alright now, Obi-Wan. You're safe here until you decide, one way or the other."

"What do you mean, one way or the other?" he questioned his bad feeling doubling.

"Won't you come in?" Nodding to the shack, she began to walk, never once looking back.

Seeing no other choice, Obi-Wan followed, tucking away his weapon.

* * *

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was restless. Mace Windu had helped him to his quarters promising to let him know if anything changed before dashing off to who knew where. Qui-Gon had paced the quarters. When he was thirsty he brewed his favorite tea. When it was cool enough to drink, he had simple dumped it down the drain, no longer thirsty. The master attempted to meditate but could find no center, no balance. With a heavy sigh, he walked into his student's room and simply collapsed onto the thin bed. His toes touched the end.

Now, he tossed restlessly to his side, wondering for the hundredth time what he should do. He wondered idly if Obi-Wan would be upset at him if he organized his desk. What little he could see of the brown surface needed cleaning. He turned to his other side, facing the long window. That needed cleaning, too. A dusting rag wouldn't hurt that shelf, either. Rolling to his back, the older man sat up, looking across the room. Had his student _ever _dusted his room? Making up his mind, the Jedi leapt from the bed fully intent on digging out the cleaning supplies.

* * *

Walking through the well tended garden, Master Windu wondered what his old friend was doing to pass the time. He, himself, could not find his center. The feeling unnerved him. He had only left Master Yoda a few moments before. They had talked about the boy. The tube was out and the bleeding taken care of. His body was sustaining itself and was in no pain. Why, then, could they not wake him. None of the healers could explain it. The boy simply wouldn't wake up. They had tried Force suggestion, drugs, drips, everything. What startled many of the healers was not that he wouldn't wake up. What frightened Mace, was that the Force didn't reach the boy. Something was there. Something dark, shielding his mind. Mace knew Obi-Wan had strong shields. He had seen them before and heard from his master. Few Jedi twice his age could manage such fortifications on of the mind. This, though, surrounded his shields on both sides. Nothing was getting in, but nothing was getting out either.

Sitting, Mace let his mind wonder through the swirls of the Force. Obi-Wan had almost had his memory wiped. With the aid of a Force sensitive rock, as was claimed, and his own mental shields, he had overcome the machine. Mace knew that the attack on his mind had left him stronger then most. Memories were things that should never be forgotten. While one shouldn't dwell on the past, the past did prepare one for the future.

Mace let his eyes rove over the bushes blooming with blue tiger-star flowers. He didn't much care for them, but knew Obi-Wan did. He liked the shape—like a star—and the black tiger stripes down the large leaves. Only ten percent of every species in the galaxy could smell the flower's scent. Obi-Wan couldn't, and was happy. Standing, Mace strolled over to the large bush and touched one of the soft petals.

_As Qui-Gon would say, 'a little desecration of public property never hurt if it is for a good cause'._

With that, he began to pluck the shimmering stalks.

* * *

The shack was nicer on the inside then the outside. The one room was clean and free of dust. A small kitchen sat snuggly to the left of the door while a curtained off corner to the right served as a bedroom. Obi-Wan sat in a rounded chair in what he could only define as a dinning room. A small table, big enough for four, shined in a polished glare under a thin red table runner. In the center sat blue Tiger-Star flowers.

"You never answered my questions." Obi-Wan began as Master Tenn worked in the kitchen.

"I wanted you to be comfortable and relaxed when I did." She said sweetly, stirring sugar into her fresh tea. Taking up the second cup, she dropped in a mint leaf, carrying it over to set in front of the younger Jedi.

Obi-Wan eyed the small cup. Qui-Gon put mint leaves in Obi-Wan's tea all the time. He just couldn't understand how the smaller man could take the strong, bitter, tea plain.

"Thank you." He said automatically.

"The Force is a strange thing, Obi-Wan. We can plan all we want and it doesn't often make a difference. If the Force wants something to happen, it will. Conversely, if it doesn't want something to happen, it wont tell us."

Obi-Wan sat silently, watching the mint leave float around the amber liquid.

"For example," she continued, "Why did you return that pen?"

Obi-Wan's eye shot up from his drink. "Pen," he murmured, "it was a little girls. Wait…the senators daughter. She liked that pen. I wanted her to be happy."

Tenn took a sip of her sweetened tea, "It was just a pen. She would have forgotten about it in a few days. Why did you return the pen?"

"Because…because I wanted to. It was the right thing to do."

"and did you know about the explosion? Didn't the Force warn you."

"I wasn't paying attention." He retorted sharply.

She smiled again, lips curling over the rim of her glass. "and when you don't pay attention, you never get a warning from the Force?"

"Yes…no…I have been warned when I wasn't paying attention but…"

"The Force didn't warn you, Obi-Wan. You felt it was the right thing to return that pen, like your life depended on it. That feeling put you next to the blast and nothing warned you against it. You were meant to be there. The Force needs you out of the picture for a bit. People need to learn some hard lessons, and you're the sacrifice."

The sandy blond looked down, blinking. The mint leaf was sinking to the bottom of the cup.

* * *

"Qui-Gon, what in the name of the Force are you doing?"

Mace Windu stood in the doorway, seeing as it was as far as he could go into the apartment. A desk stood in his way. Next to him, on the left, a dresser, while the right was blocked in with a mattress. Qui-Gon stepped out of his student's room in a light tunic, gloves and clutching a wet rag.

"I'm going to have a serious talk with Obi-Wan about his room. I thought I found a rotten sandwich under his bed but I could swear it hissed at me.

"You're cleaning his room?" Questioned the dark master. Looking around the apartment Mace could see the damage. It looked like every scrap of metal from his work station, shirt from his closet and shoe from under the bed had been pulled out, cleaned, and rested around the apartment. _Qui-Gon has lost it_ he thought.

"Qui-Gon, don't you think he will be upset when he finds out you have been through everything in his room? What if you find something private?"

The graying master laughed from in Obi-Wan's room, "I already found his journal. I didn't even consider picking the lock. He trusts me as I trust him. Has anything changed?"

Mace sighed. He wanted his friend to pull through this situation, but he couldn't bare to watch him pretend he was alright. "Qui-Gon," he pleaded, "come out of there. We need to talk."

The apartment was silent. From the far side of the apartment Mace heard a rag splash into a bucket of water. There was no sound after that. He waited. For what felt like hours, he stood a few feet in the apartment, his back to the door, is front to the contents of the fallen boy's room. Qui-Gon stepped out of the room and leaned against the door frame. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he stared at his long time friend.

"Qui-Gon—"

"I know, Mace. I know something is wrong. Please, don't make me face this your way."

Mace looked at Qui-Gon. The master's hair hung in a loose tail down his back, a few strands falling out of the band to hang over his shoulders. His eyes were rimmed in red and Mace wondered if it had anything to do with the cleaning fumes. The broad master's shoulders slumped. He had seen this depression before. His former student had been the cause. Mace closed his eyes. Qui-Gon had been a wreck then, too. The difference, he noted, was the level. Qui-Gon had gone from depressed to angry in what felt like a flash. He had been angry at himself, then his student, then his student's father before finally making a full circle and blaming himself.

Opening his eyes he softly plead with his friend, "You can't do this again, Qui-Gon. He is going to get better, you need to trust us. Don't run yourself ragged. Obi-Wan needs his master when we wake him up."

Qui-Gon's eyes flashed, "What do you mean 'when we wake him up'? I thought he would wake up on his own when he was stronger."

Mace winced, knowing he hadn't chosen his words wisely. "May I come in?" he asked, glancing at his temporary prison.

"I think you are fine where you are."

"He is off the machines. His vitals are stable. He is almost fully healed of the trauma. The healers…Qui-Gon, you must understand, they are trying—"

"There is no try, Master Windu."

Mace pinched the bridge of his nose. _So this is it._ "We can't wake him up. The Force seems to be cut off from him. We can't sense his Force signature at all. He is alive and thriving, however, something has surrounded his shields. Nothing is getting in or out. If anything, the more we try to pick at it with the Force, the deeper he gets. In a sense, he is in a coma, fully cut off from the world. He isn't dieing, Qui-Gon, but he isn't living, either."

* * *

Obi-Wan risked a glance up to the master, "I don't understand."

Setting her cup down, Tenn moved to sit next to the young man. Smiling, she tucked one of his hands between her own. "You are in between. You are not dead, but you are not alive. You can pick, do you want to live or do you want to die."

Obi-Wan shot out his seat, his chair clattering across the floor. "I want to live!" He cried. "What kind of choice is that? No one would want to die!"

"Why not?" She asked, unperturbed with his behavior.

"Why not? I have too many things to do. I need to take care of my master. I have more training to do, more missions. I'm going to be a Jedi and pass on the knowledge my master gave me. I can't just leave the people who have given so much to train me. I can't let my master down, or anyone else. I have to much to do to simply give up on life. I have no reason to."

"So you're selfish."

Obi-Wan was shocked. _Selfish?_

"How many times did you use the word 'I' just now? Why can't you die? Because you don't want to. What about the Force? The Force didn't warn you. How about your master?"

"He will be devastated. I can't betray him like this. I can't just give up. He taught me to fight until the end, not to simply give up."

"Are you sure about that? He didn't originally want you as an apprentice. How often does he praise you? How often does he even compliment you? What do you think he is doing right now? Clutching your hand? Do you think he cried at all?"

"He isn't one to share. I trust him. I know he trusts me. I don't need him to tell me that every day to know how he feels. I can feel it. I can see it."

But Obi-Wan knew he was lying, just a little. _I did need to hear it_. He thrived to hear those few kind words, those compliments and good graces. He knew he needed to learn more humility, but that wasn't important here and now.

"What if I can show you? He isn't by your side. In fact, he is ready for you to die. Your room? He is cleaning it out. 'There is not death, there is the Force'. He has already said goodbye."

The young Jedi clenched his jaw, gritting out "You're lying."

She laughed, holding her hand to her out, a blue crystal resting him her palm. Obi-Wan heard her whisper a few words, but didn't recognize the language. A light flashed in the crystal filling the room. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, pulling an arm over his eyes for good measure. When the light died down he slowly pulled his arm away. He was in his room and it was empty.

He looked around. His bed was there, the sheets crisp and clean. The desk was clear of all the former clutter. Glancing towards the window he found his dresser. One of the drawers had been left open but nothing was inside. He didn't dare look into the closet. Slowly turning around he took in the sight. He could feel his heart beating against his chest and a lump formed in his throat.

_No, no this is a mistake. This isn't my room. This isn't my apartment_.

"I didn't think I would ever get that room clean."

Obi-Wan crept towards the door. He knew that voice. _Master._

"Well you did it. The whole room is clean. I can't believe you went to all the trouble. You should have hired someone." _Master Windu?_

"I needed to do it myself. I needed it clean."

Obi-Wan peaked around the door. His master and Mace were on the couch. Qui-Gon had a book on his lap while Mace fingered through some technical maps.

_Those are my designs and my journal!_

"These are beautiful designs, Qui-Gon. You could sell these and retire. In know plenty of masters who would kill for these. Lightsaber designs, engine plans, for someone who doesn't like to fly he really knew how to design an engine."

Qui-Gon laughed, "he had an eye for detail. I don't think they would fetch much on the market, though."

The lump in Obi-Wan's throat felt like it was growing as his eyes stung.

"His clothes, now those would fetch a price." He laughed, stretching out.

Obi-Wan pulled a hand over his mouth. He had a feeling they couldn't hear him as they obviously didn't sense him. It couldn't be as bad as it sounded.

"It's getting late." Master Windu noted, "Are you going to see your apprentice one more time tonight?"

Qui-Gon thought about it for a moment before answering, "No. If what the healers say is true…"

"I understand."

Obi-Wan pulled away, not wanting to hear anything else. Both hands had clasped themselves over his mouth, stifling any sound he wanted to make. Clenching his eyes shut, we desperately wished he wasn't in his room.

"Obi-Wan?"

He was back in the run down shack, Master Tenn looking at him, worried.

"I…he…why is my room empty? What did the healers say?" His voice cracked through the lump, broken and strained.

"That you are not going to make it. You are going to be one with the Force in a little under 24-hours. As I have said, he is ready for you to go. He cleared everything out. You did your job Obi-Wan. You opened his heart. The Force thinks it is not to let go and move on."

His head spun. His whole body was numb. _It's not as bad as that. There is another explanation, he wouldn't give up, he can't._

His knees hit the hard floor. _It's a lie, he didn't give up, its a lie!_

He felt slim arms wrap around his shoulder as a chin rested on his head. "Shhh…its ok. You're safe here, Obi-Wan. You don't have to go back. Don't cry, love, everything is going to end how it should."

_I'm not crying, I'm not. It isn't me, I'm not crying._

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, distantly wondering when he had gotten them wet.


	5. Weakness

**POLL: **There is a poll in my profile page. **Read this chapter and the next**, then go over and check out the poll and have yourself a say in what happens next chapter

**Chapter Rating**: K

**Summary**: The Force is in this place, but is it enough?

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these boys…. I own Master Tenn, for all that she is and isn't. The story is mine too, so NYA! Other then that, I don't make money off of these. It would be great if I did, though. What do you say, George?

**Author note**: A few more of those little jumps in time and space. Shouldn't be confusing, though. I really hate how it breaks the flow, but I don't see any other way to make the transitions without being confusing. Any ideas?

I am sorry this is short, but I am once more having computer trouble. The programs are running fine, but the screen on the laptop is having an issue talking to the keyboard. My poor baby T.T

As always, Happy ready, feel free to comment. As a reminder, I don't hold stories hostage. "give me 10 reviews or I wont update, rawr". Nope, don't do that. Reviews are welcome and encouraged but not demanded by the muse. She only demands less humor and angst.

* * *

Obi-Wan curled into the covers, content to stay wrapped in the warm silky cocoon all morning. He had been wary of the stiff looking sheets the night before but had been pleasantly surprised at the texture. The clung to his sleep clothes like warm cotton but felt softer then any silk he had ever touched. Turning, the young man peered out the small window next to the bed. Wondering at the flash of green, he leaned up, pulling more of the pale curtain aside. Raising an eyebrow at the sight, he rolled off the bed and padded to the front door.

"Master Qui-Gon? Visiting hours do not begin for another standard hour."

The metal, grating voice stirred the master from his musings. Giving the barest hint of a sidelong glance, he tightened the grip on his student's hand, running his thumb slowly over smooth knuckles.

The med-droid clicked, its mechanical head tilting to the side. Before it could repeat the programmed response a voice behind it sounded, "It's fine. He can stay."

Qui-Gon nodded, not glancing back to see Master Windu enter the small room. The droid, having no other reason to stay, scuttled off.

"How is he doing?" asked the council member lightly as he moved to take Obi-Wan's unoccupied hand.

Qui-Gon sighed, "No change. The strange thing is, the bond is still there. I can feel it, almost like a shadow, but there is nothing but silence. I have never heard that from Obi-Wan's side before." The master smiled slightly, the corner of his lip twitching.

"We can't talk back and forth, not whole conversations. He could project emotions over it. Feelings, bad vibes. He speaks more with his expressions and emotions then with his words. It is so strange that I can feel the bond but not him."

Mace shuffled his feet, shifting his weight. "Like a tunnel that leads no where." He stated.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Nothing is getting past his shields, but there isn't a block here. It simply goes on and on. I have to trust that he can sense something in the bond."

"What are you projecting, exactly?"

* * *

Obi-Wan was amazed. This wasn't what he had fallen asleep looking at. When he had walked into this limbo, everything was barren. Now, the spidery branches of charred trees were sprouting feathery leaves. The ground, before a dry mess of compact earth, grew wispy blades and sweet smelling grass. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the sweet scent wafting through the breeze.

"There you are, sleeping beauty."

The bright eyed youth turned, spotting Master Tenn. The slight master knelt beside the front door to the shack, planting some kind of bush.

The shack, too, seemed to teem with life. Before, the wood had been warped, the paint chipping. The roof had sagged while the floor threatened to shift off the foundation. Now, while still needing a decent paint job, the shack sat straight, sturdy and clean.

"How did all this happen?" He asked, turning once more to look at the distance.

"You happened," came the soft reply.

Obi-Wan spun around, eyes wide as he stared at the red haired master.

"You are bringing life here, Obi-Wan. Somewhere, deep in your heart, you want to stay. Can't you feel it? That tiny bit of the Force, seeping through you?"

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan focused in on his core. There, a dim pinprick of light. It was faint but obvious. Somewhere, there was a flicker of the Force. "I don't understand. I couldn't feel anything yesterday. Why can I feel it now?"

Master Tenn smiled that warm smile that brightened her pale cheeks. Obi-Wan was always fond of smiles and her smile was truly bright. Standing, she dusted herself off and started to walk towards the youth.

"You weren't ready for the Force. What do you think would have happened if you had your break down and still had the ability to harness the Force? You could have hurt yourself. You could have hurt me. Now, you understand what is happening and the Force is slowly returning."

Taking his shoulders, she walked with him, pulling him towards a grassy patch by the back door.

"Obi-Wan, You are doing this. You can do anything you want here. Manipulate the Living Force. Just being here is giving life to this place. The Force was starved. Now, someone is shinning a light through it, and the Force is expanding."

He glanced down, digging his bare toes into the crisp blades. "I don't think I can do that…" his voice trailed off, unsure.

Master Tenn tugged at his hand, "Come here," she said, pulling him to sit next to her. Grasping his hand, she placed it palm down on the grass. "Think of your favorite flower. What does it look like, smell like? What does it feel like when you run your fingers over the leaves? Find the Force that is hiding in your heart and draw on it."

Closing his eyes, he thought of the Tiger-Star flowers he enjoyed. In a flash, the thought was gone, replaced by a bright tree. Frowning, Obi-Wan pulled his hand from under Master Tenn's and opened his eyes. There, unbelievably, sprouted bright green leaves.

"What is it going to be?" asked the Master.

Obi-Wan winced. "A Gankto tree. Why did I think of that?"

Tilting her head to the side, she asked, "What is a Gankto tree?"

"That would be a fungus covered tree that happens to smell like moldy cheese."

"Oh. My. Well…"

"Took the words out of my mouth. I can't believe I thought of it. I only saw the picture once. My master has a book with the worst smell plants in the universe. I don't remember hearing about it other then from him."

Tenn frowned.

* * *

"It Could Kill You: A Guide to the Worst Smells in Flora. Are you honestly reading this to him?"

Qui-Gon nodded, taking the book from Mace. "Yes," he said, flipping open to the marked page. "I just finished describing the Gankto tree. I threatened to find a live one and shove him in a room with it if he fried his lightsaber again."

Slowly, the old master ran his thumb over his student's fingers, leafing through his book with his free hand. "Ah," he said, holding up the book to show his dark friend. "The Obdi-sosno tree. Bright green leaves with a silver branches. Orange, six-petal blossoms bloom all winter and fall in the summer the next year. The blossoms can be made into a sweet tea or dried and burned as relaxing incense. The flowers release a light fragrance more closely related to the grape that can relax weary minds. I think I like this one."

Looking up from the book, he smiled at his apprentice, "what do you think, my padawan? Ready to change your brand of tea?"

* * *

Master Tenn couldn't believe her luck. She had thought she would have a hard fight on her hands with Obi-Wan. His master seemed to make it easy on her. Grief was handled differently by everyone. Qui-Gon, it seemed, decided to ignore it. The cleaning spree had been a great stroke of luck for her.

It was easy to spot Obi-Wan's less the stunning self-esteem. True, he put up a good front. His shields were impeccable and would give any master a run for his credit if they tried to break in the hard way. She, however, was better. She saw the hair thin cracks crisscrossing the surface. The need to make his master proud ran deed. More over, the needless desire to live down his master's former student seemed to gouge at the back of the shields. That was his biggest weakness.

Obi-Wan did his best to show the calm indifference of a model Jedi. He did so very well, she noted. He was strong in the Force and could be even stronger if he simply let go. Tenn smiled, watching as he explored a new tree that had begun to blossom. He wasn't afraid of the dark. He wasn't even afraid of what might happen, even now. She knew he wouldn't admit it, but he was afraid of himself. His shields weren't built so strong to only hold people out; it was to hold him back.

Watching him stretch out under the silvery tree, she tugged around his shields, pushing against the cracks she had spotted. There was a split, a low grinding sound in her ears as she pushed the fracture open a fraction wider. Obi-Wan rubbed his temples, a headache starting to form behind his eyes. Pulling the sliver of the Force to him, he probed at his mind, tracking the source of the sudden pain. Nothing seemed to be amiss.

Tenn's smile widened as the youth pulled at what little Force he could find. The crack in his shielding shifted and widened with the master's smile. He was breaking his own shields. She might get what she wanted far sooner then they could have hoped for.

* * *

Obi-Wan's pulse had jumped, stirring the two Jedi seated at his bed side. The cloud theat had forced itself around his mental shields seemed to grow, clutching at Obi-Wan even as the healers once more attempted to reign it back.

"Master Jinn, can you tell me what do were doing when his pulse began to jump?" asked one of the healers.

The master nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Mace. "We were talking to him. I was projecting calming images as well as our conversation through our training bond."

The healer nodded. "Whatever this is, it is getting stronger. For the time being, I think it would be in his best interest if we limited his exposure to the Force."

Master Windu stepped forward, glaring, "What are you suggesting? You can't possibly think cutting him off from the Force will do any good. We have been projecting the Force whenever we have had the chance. The living Force is what kept him grounded those precious first hours."

The healer closed his eyes, "My master," he tried, "he is getting worse. The more we assault his mind with the Force, healing or not, the more the dark cloud tightens its grip. I am saying that for the time being we need to stop and let him fight this on his own. We will step in if need be, but this may very well be something he must do on his own."

* * *

The headache faded, leaving him light headed and tired. Looking up, he noted the bright green leaves browning over darkening bark. Under his feet, he could feel the soft grass harden and dry. Something was going on and he didn't like it. Turning, he sought out Master Tenn.

Rounding the corner of the shack, he spotted her. She was leaning on the railing of the fence, face pinched in obvious pain. Feeling the incessant tug in his gut to help, he gathered the fading Force around him, sending a wisp of comforting energy to his new friend. In a flash, the air rushed from his lungs, his back hitting the hard dirt. He felt, and heard, his head slam the ground with a pounding CRACK. Daring to open his eyes, he gazed above him, vision blurring as pain once more flooded his head. To his left, he could make out the sound of boots shuffling over dirt and dead grass. Closing his eyes, he once more welcomed the darkness behind his eyes.


	6. Broken Memories

**Chapter Rating**: K

**POLL: **As a reminder, there is a poll in my profile. If you have a chance, go vote what you want to happen in the next chapter. You can pick up to two options. Nice right? Please understand, it is a blind poll so you won't be able to see the results until after it closes. Today is 7/14/10 and it will close in one week on 7/21/10. That will give people time to vote and me time to think over everything during ComicCom on the 22.

**Summary**: In which Obi-Wan gets part of the truth and Qui-Gon gets….

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these boys…. I own Master Tenn, for all that she is and isn't. The story is mine, too, so NYA! Other then that, I don't make money off of these. It would be great if I did, though. What do you say, George?

**Author note**: Wow, I'm getting darker and darker, ain't I? This is a pretty long chapter for me at 5 pages and two sentences. Shock and awe, people. I wrote this while listening to the following songs on repeat:

_I'm Still Here, Carry On _(From Sailor Moon),_ Welcome to my Life, _and _Just a Little Faster_ (From Ben 10: Alien Swarm)

As always, happy reading and sorry for any mistakes. Also, before I forget for the 6th time…This is partly inspired by RoMythe's awesome story _Deathly Decision_. I started the first chapter ages ago but just couldn't hurt Obi-Wan like this. Then I read Deathly Decision and knew it was ok to kill him if you didn't really kill him. If you have a chance, take a peek. This story is just as much RoMythe's baby as it is mine. May the Force be with you RoMythe.

* * *

Obi-Wan groaned, reaching up to feel the lump forming at the back of his head. The attack had been so sudden. He fought to remember what exactly had occurred. He remembered the pain in his head as well as seeking out Master Tenn. She had been in pain as well.

_Ah…_ he thought with some clarity. He had sent a ripple of healing comfort to the master. After that, he remembered looking up at the darkening sky wondering how he had changed positions so quickly. There wasn't enough Force in the dieing land to send a repulse like that. More over, he knew it was his own energy, amplified and sent racing back to him, all in an instant.

What ever the master was, it wasn't good. The Force didn't simply move past her. The Force was repelled by her. Never had he heard of such a thing. Even with the Sith, the Force moved through them, dark and tainted by their use. Pulling himself into a sitting position, the injured man took in his surroundings. The room was small, but well lit. Hard wood floors had been stained a deep red while the walls had been painted black. Lights hung, swaying in the light breeze flowing from the small window. There was nothing else in the room. Standing, Obi-Wan walked the walls, running his hand over the smooth surface. He felt no seams or cracks. On the third run he had to resign himself to the facts. The room had no door. How, then, had he gotten in? Surely he hadn't been stuffed in the small window. Looking over, he sized it up. _Sure, Kenobi. You can fit in that. If you were eight again or could cut off your hips._ The window, he decided, was far too small to be of any assistance in his escape.

Another thought came to him, intense. Were was he, anyway? He had seen no other building in his short time in this so called limbo. Was this place part of the shack or in a new plain altogether? He had a vague sense of having been

"I knew you would be trouble," Come a voice behind him.

Whirling around, Obi-Wan made a defensive grab for his weapon. Tenn's laugh echoed loudly in the room. His weapon was gone, as was the thick belt it was attached to. Uneasy, he looked past his lowered lashes, hand still on his hip, body half turned away from the master.

"Don't worry, I didn't do anything except take your weapon and belt."

"I'd like it back, if that is all the same to you." Although his voice was even, he felt his pulse jump. Unsure if it was anger or something else entirely, he took a steadying breath.

She smiled at Obi-Wan and he found, suddenly, that he no longer liked it. The bright smile felt cold, now, forced and sinister. She looked the same as she had before. Light robes crisp and clean around her form. Around her neck, a red gem hung in a gold chain. She ran her fingers over the light stone causing it to flash briefly. Behind her, Obi-Wan noted a door fade out of existence. At least now he knew how she had gotten in as well as found his way out.

"Oh, Obi-Wan. You were making this so easy. Now, well…now you are just causing me no end of pain."

"Then let me leave," he pointed out, "and I won't be able to cause you pain."

Here, she laughed, the musical sound light. Obi-Wan didn't like that anymore then he now liked her smile. "Your master taught you well. You are already such a brilliant negotiator. I'm sorry, but I can't let you go. I need you're help."

Obi-Wan let his arms fall to his side, forcing himself to relax his stance. He still only half faced the dark creature, though he lifted his head to look into her pale eyes. "Why is that? If I may help you, I will. You don't need to go to such length to secure help."

Shaking her head, the thin woman began to walk towards him. His feet shuffled a moment, automatically trying to step back. Standing straight, he stared into her eyes. Tenn walked forward, putting herself only a few feet from the student.

"and if I wanted something that went against your code?"

"and yours as well? What of your vow to uphold the code, Master Tenn?"

"Do you honestly think I am a master of the light side of the Force, little Jedi?"

"No," he said, his tone nonchalant, "I just needed you to hear it. I wouldn't want to feel bad about this."

The dark creature took a half step back. "Why would you feel bad ab—" the air rushed from her lungs as she doubled over. Pulling his fist back from her stomach, Obi-Wan snapped the red stone from around her neck, running towards the now forming door.

Light filled the room, shocking his senses as he was incased on pain. Screaming, he dropped the pendant before collapsing in a heap on the unforgiving floor. He panted heavily as he pushed himself onto his shaking elbows. Boots clicked behind him as he drew his knees under him. Glancing to his right, he saw the hem of Tenn's robe before he was viciously kicked onto his back. Sparks flooded his vision as his head once slammed into a hard surface. Tann slammed a heavy boot into his stomach. Reflexively, he rolled to his side, clutching his belly. Wheezing, he clenched his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain rolling over him. Like before, he could not feel the Force. Weakly, he promised to work on pain tolerance once he got back to the temple.

A brown boot once more slammed into him, driving him further into a ball.

"I'm sorry about that," huffed the dark creature, "but I like to share things. You gave me pain, I gave it back."

Leaning over, the red head picked up the fallen pendant. Obi-Wan began to uncurl, leaning stiffly on his elbows, calming his rolling stomach. He wondered if he could muster enough food to throw up on her clean boots, if only for spite, before letting the idea fade. He didn't want to know the equal trade for something like that. He looked up at the towering form. Her face was as calm as before, though a few strands of her long hair had pulled from the loose tail. Her robes, too, were slightly more rumpled around the midsection.

Reaching down, Tenn grasped at the padawan braid dangling over his shoulder. With a harsh tug, she began pulling him to his feet. He winced, grabbing the braid above her fist, as he stood as fast as his side would let him. She pulled harshly at the thin braid, using it to pull him across the room. Obi-Wan, having to other choice, followed, moving to grab her wrist with his other hand and keep the distance between them as small as possible.

The stone in her hand flashed again and the room changed slightly. The walls and floor turned white as a chain and cuffs dangled from the high ceiling to the floor. Another sharp tug to his braid had him down to his knees once more. He was beginning to hate that position.

"I'm surprised this hasn't torn from your head by now." Said the dark-haired woman conversationally. Letting the braid drop, she stepped back.

Obi-Wan held still. He was young, yes, but still a Jedi. He knew what kind of game she was playing and had been here before. He understood why he had recognized the silvery tree and the room. The tree was from a book he had read while the white room…he didn't like it the first time.

"Are you figuring it out, Obi-Wan? You are stuck here. You can't escape it, not while I have the key. You are trapped and you did it to yourself."

Obi-Wan glared at his capture from his spot on the floor. Yes, he knew were he was. He was here when he was thirteen. He still remembered the feel of the whip on his shoulders before his master had managed to break the wall down. Five years later, he could feel his muscles bunch in remembrance. He wasn't on Tenvis II this time. His master wasn't going to break down the wall again. This was far worse.

He was trapped in his own mind.

* * *

_There,_ thought the old Jedi. Triumphantly, he shoved the last box under the low bed. His student's room was back in perfect shape. His desk was cleaned, books lined the shelves in alphabetical order and clothes were neatly folded.

Standing, Master Qui-Gon Jinn looked around. The last time the room had been this clean Obi-Wan had been writing a term paper. Every thirty minutes or so, the boy had thrown down the assignment and flitted about the room. By the time the paper was done, the room was immaculate.

Moving over, Qui-Gon slid the closet door shut. Though his student's wardrobe was meager, it was bigger then most of his age-mates, or of any seasoned master if he thought about it. This, of course, was due to Qui-Gon's mission selection and Obi-Wan's refusal to pitch anything. Qui-Gon had caused quite a stir when he had asked that everything his student owned be cleaned. The cleaners had raised their brows at some of the articles and blushed outright at others. Sliding the door back open, he picked through the collection. The regal robes of a prince stood out among the rest. It was from one of their first missions together. It was also the first time Obi-Wan had handled a metal sword. It had been tiring, he said, feeling the metal vibrate up his arm whenever swords clashed.

Moving a few pieces, he spotted black leather pants. Hanging over them was the open vest and matching head wrap. Obi-Wan had far to much fun with that mission, though it was one of the few times Qui-Gon had arrived to find his apprentice had already gotten free from whatever trap had been set and had arrested whoever they were after. He chuckled, remember the mission fondly. The offender had kidnapped his apprentice during the investigation into the assassination attempt on one of the local senators. Obi-Wan had knocked out a guard during his escape and taken the uniform. The trailing end of the head wrap, of course, had been pulled over his face, hiding both his braid and identity. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the man behind the whole scheme had chosen that moment to come back to his rooms. Obi-Wan, begin the nearest guard, had been ordered into the room to protect the man from the escaped Jedi. Obi-Wan had been kind enough to wait until the man had finished changing clothes before arresting him. From the way he told it, the man's expression had been very fish like in his shock at the half naked Jedi.

He moved another set, stopping at the one piece he hadn't taken to be cleaned. Now, he pulled it out, the plastic bag rippling as it caught the circulating air. Moving to the bed, the long haired Jedi pulled back the plastic covering. Nestled inside was a torn mess of robes. He knew without turning the tunic over that the back was a criss cross of shredded material. One of the sleeves had been torn off while the other had been torn open from shoulder to wrist. He didn't dare lift the shirt to look at the pants he knew were hanging under. He knew what they looked like.

Obi-Wan never looked at this one, had always kept it tucked safely in the back. He was fond of everything that hung in the closet. He referred to the space as his "escape clothes". No matter the mission, no matter if they succeeded or failed, he kept whatever he had gotten away with. Qui-Gon knew he shouldn't encourage it, that it was wrong. Keeping them was an attachment. Obi-Wan refused to let go of the past, something Qui-Gon knew he needed to teach the boy. Running his hand over the torn collar, he let himself feel the old anger. His former student had done this. He had tired of simply hurting them from afar, from using other people to torment them. He had taken matters into his own hands and tortured Obi-Wan. Letting his anger go, he felt the ping of guilt that always followed.

Since the moment Obi-Wan had started his apprenticeship he had been tormented by Qui-Gon's last student. Not all of it, he noted, was a direct result of the dark Jedi. Obi-Wan had to simultaneously live up to Qui-Gon's expectations and live down a long gone shadow.

No blood stained the white tunic. Lifting the remains, the Jedi brought them to his nose and inhaled. Yes, the robes had been cleaned by none other then his student. Tahl, Qui-Gon's oldest and deepest friend, had been appalled to find out he had cleaned them by hand only a few days after the ordeal. Qui-Gon had as well, but watching his student, face set in livid anger had been enough to make the master wait. He had sat on the bed, watching his student through the 'fresher door. With every drop of patience he could muster, he waited. He waited after Tahl left. He waited when she came back, Windu in tow. He waited until his student threw the sopping yet clean mass at the wall and screamed. Then, ordering his friends to stay put, he sat on the tile, letting his apprentice cry himself out. Only after he had awoken did Qui-Gon tug his hand and walk him to the mind healers.

It had been the worst mission Obi-Wan had ever endured. Qui-Gon wished he could say the same, but knew he had memories far worse.

This is the path of the Jedi. Sometimes you win and sometimes you don't Sometimes you get hurt and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you want nothing more then to forget and sometimes, sometimes you cling to the memory as it collects dust in the back of a closet.

They both needed to move on, he realized. They had both been broken in more ways then one. Strangely, both by the same ghost. Taking a deep breath, the aged master watched the Force. It swirled around the room, getting to know the newly cleaned space. He felt the corner of his lips turn up slightly. The Force was in awe of the new cleaned space. He supposed it was just as surprised at his continuous presence in a space obviously not his own.

_There is his work desk, and here are his books, but where is the apprentice_, it seemed to ask.

His lips dropped as he focused on the stray thought. Yes, the Force was asking a question. _Why is he not with you_, was the question that come unbidden to his mind. The Force seemed to probe his mind as he would question any other being. The Force was ever moving and all knowing. Why did it not know what had happened? He lowered his head, silvering hair falling over broad shoulders. He thought of the dark shadow blocking his student's mind shield, then of the open link that seemed to go on, never reaching an end. The Force moved, coiled and jumped. He thought it looked like an agitated animal just handed the wrong food. The Force swirled faster around the room and Qui-Gon simply watched, allowing his memories to float out. If the Force needed to use him then so be it. It was only fair, he thought. The Jedi pulled on the Force every day for any reason, using it to save, to help or in the case of the dark, to hurt. He would speak with Master Yoda about the Force's sudden lack of knowledge of events, but for now, he simply allowed himself to curl on the bed. He felt his grip relax on the tunic he still held. Blinking slowly, he listened to the call of the ever present Force. It sang to him, lulled him, told him to rest. Thinking of just how tired he suddenly was, Master Jinn closed his eyes, fingers letting go of the tunic as it slithered off the side of the bed.


	7. Don't Hurt Me Again

**Chapter Rating**: K

**Summary**: In which we get the full truth and Obi-Wan makes a choice.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. If I did, I would make this into a comic book.

**Author note**: Holy crap, 12 pages? Someone cut the brake line!

* * *

It has also come to my attention that…isn't Tahl dead at this point? Umm…mmm…I'll have to look that up. Remember, Obi is about 18 here. If she is then…creative license people!

As always, thank you to all those who read this story and super big thanks to those who review. One day, I will write a story for each and every one of you in thanks for reading this long winded thing. Kisses to you all.

Qui-Gon mumbled in his sleep, having no desire to wake up and face the day. Stirring, he heard the buzz of his communicator. _Odd,_ he thought. He was home so there was no need to call his personal comm. Rubbing his face and beard with broad hands, the old master groaned. He had curled up to fit onto his student's bed and now his body protested. Stretching, he felt around for the buzzing unit. Leaning over the bed, he spied the fallen robe. Next to it, his fallen comm.. Grabbing the unit, the long haired master sat on the bed, stretching once more, and answered.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, here." He said, stifling a yawn.

"Oh, thank the Force! Qui-Gon, where are you?"

"Tahl? I'm at the apartment. Is everything alright?" Suddenly, he found himself awake and on his feet, already striding to the room's door.

"What?" she sounded confused for a moment. "We have been trying to contact you there for a few hours. We sent someone by, but no one answered. Its Obi-Wan…"

Not caring for courtesy, Qui-Gon clicked the device off, now rushing into the hall. Sprinting down the corridor, he knew he looked a sight. His hair had started to fall from the tight knot while his robes, he was sure, looked rumpled and slept in. He didn't feel the weight of a lightsaber at his side and for once didn't care. This was not a battle that could be won with force, or with The Force, at all. It wasn't even a battle he felt he could help with. For the first time in many years, Qui-Gon Jinn felt helpless and lost.

It didn't take long to make it to the ward. Startled Jedi jumped to the side as he rushed into Obi-Wan's room. There, his student lay pale, more pale then before, a mask over his face, his breathing labored.

Mace Windu looked up from the readouts printing on the table next to the bed.

"Qui-Gon, where have—"

"It doesn't matter. What is going on?"

Mace shook his head, his frown deeply etched from his mouth to the fine lines on his forehead. "Everything. He is in pain, but nothing seems to help. Any attempt to use the healing Force is repulsed. It seems like what ever this is, it is bound to hurt him."

Qui-Gon slowly moved to the bedside, taking his every present vigil at his student's side, grasping the thin hand in his own.

"Force damn it, Mace!"

Mace tried to place a comforting hand on his friends shoulder, but a warning glare thrown over a broad shoulder held him in place.

"Enough," hissed the graying master, "enough with this. There is more you are not telling me. He is my student, I deserve to know; I need to know! What in the Sith hells is going on?"

"He is dying."

So simple, so plain. For a moment Qui-Gon's anger vanished. He felt his body numb to the core.

"No." he said, "no, I would feel it."

"You have been in denial since the start, Jinn!" Now it was the dark skinned master that began to raise his voice. He couldn't bare it any longer. "You can not ignore this. He is in pain when there is no longer any wound. He is in a coma that has no origin. You can't even feel him any more. It is time to wake up, Jinn. Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't see this happening at some point."

He couldn't. He didn't even glance away from the pale face stretched in pain. The bond was fading, already just a wisp of former glory. When he had woken up, he felt light, almost like air. When his dark student had turned and broken the bond, there had been pain. His first student, though, had been a mutual break. He remembered waking up and feeling like air then, too.

"I…I can't, Mace. I can't do this again." His voice choked and caught, trying to stay steady.

He felt his heart begin to break, a painful tightness forming in his chest. When he had taken Obi-Wan as his student he had worried that he had made a mistake. The boy was so much like Xanatos. He had once commented that eventually Obi-Wan would betray him, too. He hadn't been wrong. In the end, though, it had made them the stronger for it, as Tahl had pointed out.

"He isn't going to leave me. Not like this, not without a fight. We both know him, Mace. He is headstrong and passionate. You may not like that about him, but it is something the order desperately needs. He won't just give that up, not for anything, not after everything we have gone through."

"How do you know?"

"I know him," he answered, smiling as he tugged softly at the apprentice braid, "and I know the Force. Listen to it, Mace. The Force wants him back. He is strong when he wants to be. He will beat this."

Reaching out to the side table, Master Windu pulled open the drawer and withdrew Obi-Wan's light saber.

Qui-Gon, now, glanced at his friend, confused.

"He told me this was his favorite lightsaber to date. You gave him a crystal to use, when his were destroyed a few missions ago."

Qui-Gon laughed. Yes, the primary crystal was Obi-Wan's, but the focusing crystal had been a gift. Old crystals from an old lightsaber and he had treasured them much like his student treasured his rock. The combination had created a strong blade in the most brilliant of blues. Taking the saber now, he could feel the warmth seeping into his body. Closing his eyes, he felt the Force wash over him, delighted to be connected with both him and his student. The warmth spread from the hand that clutched the saber, across his chest and down to the hand grasping his student's. Somewhere, deep down, he could feel Obi-Wan; he just didn't know how to reach him.

* * *

It was dark again. Obi-Wan wanted to pry his eyes open, force them to see, but he wouldn't. There was no light here, he could not see any behind thin eyelids. Where ever he was, it was cold and smelled like stale water. Somewhere in a darkened corner he heard the drip drip of water on stone. Sighing, he flicked his wrist, first his left, then his right, and was not surprised to feel heavy metal. _What do you expect when they are being held above your head?_

Once more the restrained Jedi tried to focus but felt no answering call through the Force. In fact, he couldn't feel even a wisp of the Force. Shaking his head, he sorted over the facts.

He was in a dark, dank room, on his knees, chained and had a pounding headache. Yep, that covered it. He fidgeted, moving to stand. _Might as well…_

Ob-Wan almost groaned as he slowly stood. His knees popped and protested after kneeling on the hard stone for an unknown amount of time. Taking a moment to stretch his sore legs, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and finally looked around. The room was small, as he expected, and made of stone blocks. Rusty metal hooks, clasps and chains were jammed into the hard walls. One door stood behind him, thick metal tarnished with rust. A small window in the door looked out into an empty hall.

Moving to the door, Obi-Wan peered out, eyes now adjusted to the low light. A long stretch greeted him, but little else. Above him, a low ceiling matched the moldy walls, the lone chain securing Obi-Wan to his cuffs the only addition. At another time, Obi-Wan felt he could laugh. The whole room looked disturbingly like a picture he had once seen of medieval dungeons. The planet he had been on had a rich history and the people proud of it, even if it was a rather dark history. The only thing missing, he mussed, was a skeleton hanging from the cuffs on the wall. Walking back to the middle of the room, he turned to his hands.

The cuffs were not lined with material, so they cut into his wrists. He wasn't bleeding, but the skin was raw and red. A short chain connected the two cuffs. The center of the chain was hooked into the chain that attached to the ceiling above him. Turning his hands over, he examined the cuffs. He couldn't see any keyhole or seam. Tugging at one, he found he wouldn't be able to force his hand through. Short of cutting off his thumbs, the cuffs would be staying on. Next, he tugged at the chains holding them together. The links were a strong and heavy metal. It didn't look or feel smooth. Thinking back to the planet he had seen this room on, he remembered the type of metal. They were iron shackles. For the first time since waking up, the boy smiled. Iron wasn't perfect and with the right application of force the links could be broken.

Seeing nothing else of interest, the teenager sat in the middle of the room, crossing his legs under him as his arms hung above his head once more.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan tried to find his center. Master Tenn wasn't the good Jedi he thought her to be. She had, though, been right about a few things. The first being the spark he had. Somewhere, deep down, he could feel the Force. It was a tiny shadow, a mere flicker of true power, but he knew it was there. Digging deeper, Obi-Wan pushed all else aside. He would deal with his master when he got out.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

Master Tenn was tainted. He could see it now. She didn't answer questions directly, her smile sudden and misleading. She wanted him to stay, but offered little as to why. She had been the one who attacked him. The Force didn't touch her, there was a reason the Force wasn't moving throughout the desolate place. She hadn't done anything to him after the first escape attempt. He had been surprised, to say the least, when she had simply knocked him out. His every thought had raced back to the first time he had been in that room and he remembered terror. Terror and pain.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

Warmth began to trickle into his mind. He could feel it and he calmed. He felt his racing heart slow, his chest rising in deep inhalations.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

He felt his wrists warm, the cold metal heating internally. There was a reason for all this. This was not a random fluke. Tenn was right about that. The Force wanted something but he was now certain it wasn't his death. No, something was out of balance and the Force wanted it set right. He felt a tug in the back of his mind. Yes, Master Tenn was the problem. She had done something here, something wrong.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

The sound of twisting metal echoed through the small room, ringing off the stone walls. The chain that was hooked into the ceiling rattled, whipping back to clang against the wall, hanging limp and empty. Obi-Wan sat, relaxed breath warming the air. Around him, broken chain links scattered, rolling along the stone as the iron cuffs clattered noisily along the stone. Relaxing further, he let he hands fall to rest on his knees, feeling the ache in his wrists ebb. The bolt holding the door tightly shut slammed out of its hold. Obi-Wan opened his eyes as he stared up from his low perch. He blinked slowly as the door creaked open. Peering through low lashes, he felt his lip twitch.

He was ready this time.

The repulse sent Tenn spinning out the door and into the hall as Obi-Wan dashed from the room. Obi-Wan had found that spark and it was bigger then even Tenn had imagined.

It only took Master Tenn a moment to recover, her head ringing from where it had hit against the stone wall. Pulling herself upright, she dashed after the escaped apprentice.

He ran. This time, though, he felt the Force pulse through his mind and body. The halls twisted and turned, never seeming to end. Obi-Wan, however, knew where he was going. The Force rippled around him as he ran, whispering where to go. _The left hall, now the right, straight ahead, past those doors._

_Wait, that room there._

Finding the door locked, Obi-Wan could only grin as he kicked it in. Qui-Gon had told him there was a time and place for force. There, resting ever so, on a wooden table, was his lightsaber. Reverently, the youth picked the weapon up, turning it this way and that in the bright light.

Harsh panting echoed from the broken doorway. Activating the saber, he pulled the glowing blade over his head just as a twin crimson blade swept down.

Obi-Wan expected a lot of this at this point. He expected a long, hard fight. He expected to be tried of all his skill and even expected to be hurt in the process. What he got was something else entirely. The crimson blade retracted and master Tenn turned to flee back down the hall.

"Well that can't be good," he mumbled.

The Force paid no mind to his unease as it tugged his senses out the shattered doorway and into the hall. Allowing the Force to guide him, the youth ran out into the hall once more, following the Force and the wisp of cloak. Bursting though a fast closing door he once more found himself engulfed in light. Squinting, he pulled an arm over his eyes, filtering the bright rays. The light began to dim a moment later as he slowly dropped his arm.

He could have laughed as he found himself standing in one of the Temple's training rooms. Before him stood, not Master Tenn, but Bruck Chun.

"Its about time," called the youth. His red blade cast an eerie glow on his light hair.

"Master…Tenn?" Obi-Wan asked, slowly edging forward.

Without realizing it, the boys had begun to circle the other, their blades low to the ground.

Bruck smiled, eyes crinkling in smug humor. "You know who I am."

"You are Bruck Chun."

The boy laughed, leaping forward, saber clashing against Obi-Wan's. The sabers sizzled as the pulled apart only to clash again above Obi-Wan's head. Pushing forward, Obi-Wan twisted his wrist, disengaging the other youth.

_He always liked to toy with people, _he though as both backed up, sabers once more low to the ground.

"So you don't know who I am." The smug smile was still there, stretching his face in grim satisfaction.

"You are Master Tenn."

"Yes, so who am I?"

Obi-Wan missed a block, managing to spin out before his arm was taken off. As it was, he could feel the skin on his shoulder blister and bubble around the scorch mark. Bruck took a step back, waiting. That wasn't like him. Bruck was nothing if not an opportunist. He would have struck a weakened opponent without a second thought.

_Felt this way before, you have._

Those had been Yoda's words. He had felt like what? Like he had been abandoned? Like the Force itself had wanted nothing to do with him?

"Melida/Daan," he whispered. He pushed the heel of his hand into his temple. The revelation didn't explain anything.

"It explains everything, young one."

Looking up, it was Master Tenn that stood before him, lightsaber gone. The Force swirled around the room, passing around the dark Jedi as if it had no desire to be touched by the dark creature.

"It just isn't possible," he said, voice strained and weary. His saber fell from his limp hand, clattering noisily to the temple floor.

"Everything is touched by the living Force, it doesn't make sense that it would go around you."

"Our master has taught you well, little Jedi. You are smarter then I give you credit for."

Obi-Wan lifted his gaze slowly, no longer finding the strength to be surprised. Xanatos was there, now, his black robes swirling around his ankles. Black hair hung limply around his pale features, never seeming to block the broken circle on his cheek.

"This is too much," Obi-Wan cried, "This is either a bad dream or a messed up nightmare."

Xanatos smiled, his face now warm and inviting.

"Wait, you're not real. This is my mind, you're not really here. Only living things…you haven't touched the Force, not once. Why would I make you up?"

The form in front of him seemed to melt. Now, instead of Tenn, or Bruck, there stood a young man in sandy robes. His hair was a sandy brown, flashes of light catching vibrant red strands. His eyes swirled blue-green above a teasing smile. Over one slim shoulder dangled a braid.

"You are better then this. Don't you ever listen to Qui-Gon?"

Obi-Wan felt a grin begin to form. This was something he could handle, though, he knew his master would send him straight to the healers if he ever found out his apprentice was talking to himself.

"Well," prompted the mirror image, "how did you get yourself in this one, Obi-Wan?"

"Droid malfunction? I always knew a machine would be the end of me."

Both snorted, folding their arms around their bodies.

"A droid? Really?" The doppelganger began to laugh, "You can't lie to me, Kenobi."

"I was hurt. The droids missed it. The healers didn't double check. I let the pain—"

"You covered the pain. You always cover the pain. What you couldn't release into the Force you tried to hide with the pills. Why didn't you seek help?"

"I don't know."

The mirror image slowly stepped forwards, features shifting once more. In seconds, Obi-Wan stood before his master.

"Obi-Wan, you can't lie to yourself, this you know."

The youth tried to take a step back when firm hands grabbed his upper arms. The grip tightened as the master gave him a sharp shake.

"Answer me, Obi-Wan."

He grit his teeth, fire racing from his shoulder where he had been burned.

"Are you listening, Obi-Wan? I asked you a question."

"You're hurting me!" He yelled.

In an instant, the hands were gone. The faux master took a step back, tilting his head to the side in a silent question.

Ob-Wan felt tears begin to prickle at his eyes.

"I felt guilty. You were hurt and it was my fault. It was that stupid…every time you are hurt it is because of me! I am too slow or too rash. I try something idiotic and I don't think and—"

His voice cracked as he held his hand to cover his mouth. A hiccupped sob wrenched out from his throat.

"It was a pen, a stupid pen! I shouldn't have cared about it. It wasn't important and I could have gotten you killed—"

"Enough," Bellowed the older man. The sharp command echoed around the chamber.

Obi-Wan attempted to breathe at a steady pace, finding himself unable to. A sharp sob found its way around his hands as they clenched his mouth shut, wanting to stop the weak sounds.

"Now," said the master softly, "would the explosion not have occurred if you hadn't returned that pen?"

Obi-Wan said nothing as he shut his eyes tight, his face gazing down. His shoulders shook lightly.

"You know the truth of the matter; you simply wish to ignore it."

Finally, Obi-Wan found his voice. Weakly, and through a tight throat, he whispered, "I failed you."

Qui-Gon stepped forward, pulling the youth in a light embrace. Obi-Wan, however, pulled away, clutching his arms around him, head still hung in self-evident shame.

"After I begged to be your apprentice…I have done little to prove myself. I didn't want to do anything to let you down. I thought if I showed a weakness I would be no better then…" he choked on the last bit, feeling younger and younger with every admission.

He scrubbed at his eyes trying to rid them of the hot tears.

"When I started to slip…I didn't want to wake you up. Somewhere in my mind, I couldn't bare it. I don't want to leave you but I can't be the apprentice you want. I can't be the one you deserve."

Wind played with his hair as he opened his eyes. Gone was the cold temple. Now, around him, was bright grass. Trees towered above him as flowers danced and swayed. To his right, the shack glistened as bright as a mansion. In the distance the silver tree shone in the morning sun, orange flowers popping out from shiny green leaves.

"If I may say, we have a beautiful mind. If only we would use it a bit more."

Turning around to acknowledge his master once more, he spied a wisp of brown robe, then nothing. He was alone again but this time his chest didn't tighten in panic. He could feel the Force weaving around him.

Qui-Gon had just started to fade into a troubled sleep when he felt it. The dark cloud seemed to dissipate as Obi-Wan's breathing slowed down. Now, instead of dangerously fast, it was curiously slow. Reaching up, he allowed himself the indulgence to caress the pale face, wiping the tears that had fallen without his knowledge.

As far as he could remember, you couldn't cry in a coma.

Obi-Wan lay down under the tree, smiling as the soft petals rained down. He wanted to stay here, in is own mind. Just once, he wanted to be selfish and not face his actions. Had he failed? If the explosion hadn't happened he would have felt the same way; he knew he would feel the same failure.

He recalled the conversation he had had with Yoda. Yoda had not been talking about poison on the blade that had struck him. Obi-Wan had been poisoning his own mind for years. Qui-Gon hadn't helped matters much, either. _Little is own about this planet, indeed._

Silently, he promised to haunt the old troll.

Haunt. That was such a terrible and final word. Tenn had shown him that his master had already moved on, but Tenn was him. Did he really move on or did Obi-Wan simply show himself what he wanted?

The young Jedi turned to his side before grunting and rolling back. He had rolled onto his saber. Lifting the sturdy weapon from his belt, he observed it in the bright sunlight. The cylinder was thin and graceful, being very minimal in design. While some Jedi could get complicated with designs he had taken the simple rout. After all, he had to be able to repair it on the fly more often then not. The more complicate the design, the more time it took. With Qui-Gon, you didn't often have as much time as you would think the patient master would give.

Shifting to lean up, Obi-Wan rested against the tree between bulged out roots. With a touch of the Force, Obi-Wan opened the saber, pulling the crystals from there place. He had fixed his light saber many times, but there were very few times he had cause to remove the crystals when nothing was broken.

How many crystals had he replaced? These crystals, though, were special. The primary crystal was from his first saber. How he had managed to keep it intact over the years he didn't know. The focusing crystal was the best part. That one was Qui-Gon's. His master had lent it to him on one of their last few missions. His saber was useless, smashed flat on one side. Obi-Wan could at least repair his. Qui-Gon had told him to keep it until he could find one he wanted to keep. He had yet to tell his master that the crystal felt right when he held it. Now, he held the crystal to his heart, feeling it warm his skin.

* * *

Qui-Gon smiled. If he didn't know better, he would think his student simply sleeping. The cloud had left, his breathing once more normal and his Force signature had returned. It echoes confusion and mental exhaustion, but it was there.

No longer holding Obi-Wan's hand, the master fiddled with the lightsaber Mace had handed him. Obi-Wan had teased him mercilessly when Qui-Gon had admitted to smashing his saber. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Holding the weapon in both hands, he felt the warmth flood him once more. The center chamber housing the crystals pulsed like a heart beat.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the bed next to his student's side. The position was uncomfortable in the hard chair, but he was content to be near his recovering student.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed. He was so tired. The light was beginning to fade, twilight turning colors in the sky.

_I should go back_, he thought.

Once more he questioned if it was a good idea. He knew he should but did he want to?

The crystals in his hand pulsed as he held them to his heart. He could feel his heartbeat through them. He felt a jolt. The rhythm was off. No, it wasn't, there were two heartbeats. Even though they were not synchronized it felt like they are working together rather then against one another. The beats started to lull him to sleep with a spreading warmth.

_Felt like this before, you have._

Yes, after another failed mission. Both had been hurt, but Qui-Gon had still been by his bed, sending warm healing thoughts into their bond. Obi-Wan had blamed himself then, too. His master had simply forced several hours of meditation over the idea of blame and certainties.

Obi-Wan began to think more clearly. He had blamed himself and blocked the Force from his own mind. For all he knew, his master was sitting by his bed, wondering why he couldn't use the Force to reach him.

Drifting deeper, Obi-Wan yawned, wondering if maybe he had been harder on himself then he should have been.

* * *

Qui-Gon had fallen asleep. He didn't remember when, but he had. Blinking, his vision filled with white sheets. His head rested over his folded arms over the bed with Obi-Wan's arm resting on his master's shoulder. _I must have pulled his arm over in my sleep._

He closed his eyes again, wanting nothing more then to sleep. Something moved in his hair, pulling him from his rest. He shrugged it off. It moved again, touching his neck and carding through the hair that rested there. Reaching up blindly,the aged master grabbed at the annoyance. Pulling it forward to his face he found a hand. Obi-Wan's hand. Fingers crinckled in a mock wave as Qui-Gon jumped up, eyes wide.

Obi-Wan gazed up at his master, curling his hand into Qui-Gon's. He smiled tiredly before whispering,

"We need to talk."

For the first time Obi-Wan could remember, his master threw himself onto the bed and clutched Obi-Wan to his chest, holding him tighter then either thought was possible.

* * *

It is NOT over folks! I have 1 or 2 more chapters ready to be finished.

**POLL: **Umm…so, I started to write this in compliance with the results of the poll and then all my plans failed. This story has taken a very sharp left turn somewhere and I am struggling to keep a hold of the wheel. Thank you for the votes and I will keep them in mind for the next story.

Lets just hope I get the breaks fixed. I think someone cut the line!


	8. Three Little Words

**Chapter Rating**: K

**Summary**: In which things begin to resolve and Qui-Gon says those three little words Obi-Wan needed to hear. No, you fools, not "I love you." These three words are much more important.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned them, I would not be here. I would be in a beach house with my Obi-Wan paid look-alike, sipping a majito on the porch, and getting my feet rubbed by Elrond's twins. Oh yeah, I went there.

**Author note**: Did you know that Obi-Wan isn't apprentice number two but is in fact apprentice number three? Look it up if you don't believe me *shakes fist*

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* * *

The temple was almost always calm. Nothing dared to disturb the peace that settled daily in the halls. Students walked calmly to class while masters quick-stepped to their chambers lest someone change their minds and assign another mission. Every so often a student would rush by in an earthy blur, late for a test or practice with their master. All seemed right and still within the temple—all except one hall.

Raised voices raised once more in aggravation and exasperation bounded through the tightly closed doors. After three days, the other tenants had given up. The council had been notified several times but little was done. If needed, Jedi were moved to a less turbulent hall, but for the rest, there was no peace. Master Yoda himself talked to many of the halls occupants. They were told to simply stay out of the way and allow it to happen. The master didn't like the turbulent raging of the Force, but something whispered to him about the need for it. Murmurs filled the halls as passing Jedi questioned what had set the pair off once more. Master Windu, having to deal with another complaint, stood outside the door. For the first time in many years he wanted to defy the wishes of the high council. He wanted, more then anything, to burst through the door and force a truce.

The voices grew louder as they neared the door, only to grow faint as they moved away. The occupants of the apartment must have been pacing. Either that or the younger man had sought to escape into the hall only to be thwarted and pulled back once more. As the voices once more edged the doorway, Mace could clearly decipher the argument.

"That is nonsense!"

"Is it? You haven't once denied it!"

An exasperated sound echoed into the hall, sounding oddly like a growl.

"And you wonder why? You are acting just like—"

The sharp sound of flesh striking flesh stilled the hall. No one dared move or speak. Master Windu stared at the doorway, eyes wide. The silence was deafening.

After a moment, the murmurs began again. This time, though, they were less curious and more shocked. Someone had just been slapped. No apprentice would raise their hand against their master just as no master would ever lower themselves to striking an apprentice. Neither course was the Jedi way. Now, Mace didn't know what he was more afraid of, the repercussions of an apprentice striking his master, or of the master harming his apprentice. Slowly he turned and walked away from the door. He would not be the one who intervened this time.

* * *

Obi-Wan was shocked. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he had ever been this stunned. Gasping, he held his hand to his mouth, afraid to breathe. Qui-Gon, for his part, pulled a large hand over his now pinking cheek.

"Master, I…I didn't mean…it was just…Oh, Force…" Obi-Wan stuttered over his words, unsure what he could say or what should be said. Fear welled in his chest as his mind exploded with possibilities. He would be kicked out, thrown aside and it would be of his own doing. One did not strike their master and get away with it. He felt the telling prickle in his eyes and knew he was once more on the verge. It felt like the dam that had held back his emotions for the last five years had finally crumbled. His throat tightened as he tried to reason with the situation. He had spent five years hiding his fear and pain and now it was back to bite him in the ass.

Qui-Gon took a step forward, reaching out to his apprentice. Obi-Wan let out a pained sob, pulling out of reach. Qui-Gon felt his eyes begin to sting.

"Padawan? It is alright. I'm not angry."

He tried to take another step forward, reaching out his hands slowly. He managed to brush his student's arms before they were once more out of reach. Obi-Wan's back hit the low table and he felt his knees begin to give. Half turning, he clutched the edge of the hardwood, attempting to steady himself.

Qui-Gon could only watch as his student leaned on the heavy table for support, sobs shaking his compact frame. He wasn't angry with him. He wasn't even surprised that he had been struck, only that his apprentice hadn't done so sooner. He could have kicked himself in the head had he the ability to reach it. While his student had been in his coma he had promised himself he would talk to the boy about Xanatos. He had promised himself that he would stop trying to compare the two. Yes, they had some of the same problems. What they differed in was the approach to it. Obi-Wan managed to calm himself down and deal with the situation. Xanatos, on the other hand, once angry, stayed that way. He had destroyed that promise in record time. Obi-Wan wasn't Xanatos. No, no the boy was far better then Xanatos could even hope to be. It was about time Obi-Wan heard that from him.

"Obi-Wan," he tried, softly, "I'm so sorry."

The sandy youth slowly shifted his gaze to look at his master. Why was he sorry? He was the one who had been slapped.

The aged man took a cautious step towards the table.

"I am so, so sorry. This was all my fault. I spent so much time worrying that you were…this is my fault, Padawan, not yours."

Qui-Gon, having made it to the table, reached out once more. Gingerly, he turned his student to face him. Obi-Wan sat on the very edge of the table, refusing to look up as his sobs lessoned into broken hiccups.

Placing his broad hands on the youth's shoulders, Qui-Gon waited. After what felt like an age, Obi-Wan let his hands drop to his lap, his fingers twisting themselves in the hem of his tunic. Qui-Gon gently kneaded his shoulders, feeling the tense muscle relax under his touch.

"Why," came a soft voice, "are you sorry? I could have gotten you killed. I started all the arguments over the last few days. I was the one who…you didn't deserve that."

Qui-Gon smiled, rubbing the now relaxed shoulders. He could feel the Force ebbing back into a relaxed state. His apprentice didn't realize it, but even when he wasn't trying, the Force responded to him in strange ways.

"I did deserve it," he said at last.

Confused, Obi-Wan risked a glace through low lashes. His master was a towering figure. Standing in front of him, his hands on his student's shoulders, he looked every bit the imposing Jedi—if not for the faint smile tugging on his lips. Obi-Wan could lean forward and be swallowed by the voluminous robes, so large where they compared to him.

And he wanted to. Since he had been pulled into that breath taking hug upon his awakening he had wanted nothing more then to fall back into his master's arms and stay there. It had been years since he had felt that kind of affection. It was rare to be back at the temple, so he didn't have much of a chance to hug his friends or past instructors. He knew he should let it go. Jedi didn't need that, right?

So why did it hurt to think he would never have that again?

"Master, you just don't understand."

"Then tell me what I need to do to fix this."

"Force you can't just…arggg."

They were back to this again. His master trying to protect him.

"Stop trying to protect me! None of this is your fault, you have to stop trying to take the blame for it."

Qui-Gon sighed, gearing up for another yelling match.

"Obi-Wan, it is my job to protect you. As to taking the blame, it was my fault. You must stop taking these things to heart. Why are you so set on this path?"

"Because it was my fault!" Cried the young Jedi.

"I always get you hurt! I'm too slow or reckless or stubborn. I don't always think and I get hurt or someone else hurt. What is a successful mission, master? Stopping an assignation? What about the lives lost because I didn't pay attention? What about the damage done because I couldn't wait? What about—"

"It doesn't matter, Obi-Wan!"

"It does to me!"

"You're not Xanatos!"

Obi-Wan froze. Had he heard that right?

Qui-Gon's jaw clenched. It took everything he imagined he had to grind out, "For Force's sake, you're not Xanatos."

The chrono along the wall clicked in the now silent apartment.

"It is my fault, because I never told you that. It is my fault because I forced you to live up to my first apprentice. It is more my fault then you can imagine for making you live down my second. You deserve better then that, Padawan. I should have told you that years ago. I should have paid more attention. You have been bottling everything up for so long; I'm surprised you didn't explode sooner."

"But—"

"No, Obi-Wan, let me finish." Pulling out a chair, Qui-Gon sat in front of his student, taking his hands as he had so many times while in the healing wing.

"You are not Xanatos. I was so concerned that you would turn into him. When you left the order, I thought I was dying, like I could never trust anyone again. It was like Xanatos all over. Then, despite all odds, you came back and were wiser for it. That is when I knew how different you were. Still, I was afraid to tell you. Afraid that if I did, it would somehow shatter what had been built."

Taking a deep breath, he looked up; holding his students gaze as Obi-Wan so many times had held his.

"You are more important to me then any of that. I wanted you to be as strong as I knew you could be. Because of that, I stepped away from you. I wanted you to figure things out on your own, like my first apprentice. I didn't look close enough to realize what you were doing. Berating yourself when anything went wrong, comparing yourself to Xanatos' failings.

"What you did was honest, compassionate and brave. Do not ever think that these are bad or dangerous. You did the right thing. We both know that bad things can so often happen to good people regardless of what we do to stop it. Your stubbornness is not your weakness. Your weakness is your own self doubt. I do not doubt your strength or wisdom, Obi-Wan. I never will."

Obi-Wan's mind reeled with the admission. "All these years. All these years I thought I wasn't good enough for you. I thought I couldn't ever live up to your ideal apprentice or live down the shadow over your heart. Why were you so afraid to tell me sooner? To let me know?"

"Self-doubt."

"Huh, Master Yoda said we were more alike then we knew."

"That would be my fault, too, I'm afraid. I have been a poor example. You do not need to be the best Jedi I want you to be. If you want to impress me, you simply need to be the best Jedi _you_ know you can be. If that is only the second best Jedi in the entire galaxy, well, I think I can live with that."

Outside the room the hall was silent, as it should be.

* * *

Qui-Gon leaned on the doorframe of his student's room, watching. He had been doing that far more often of late. Since Obi-Wan's recovery and subsequent fall out, the days following had been filled with tears of pain and joy; hugs and yelling. Qui-Gon couldn't remember an emotional roller coaster quite that large. The boy had lived up to every expectation of his master and received little for it. While it was not the Jedi way to coddle students, the boy was different and a small bit of reassurance would have gone a long way.

Qui-Gon thought back to the praise and pride he had heaped on his last student and knew what had stopped him this time. He had been afraid Obi-Wan would become spoiled and betray him. He once more reminded himself how different Obi-Wan was to Xanatos, mentally kicking himself. This was the kind of thing that had caused the issue in the first place—Obi-Wan afraid to ask for the reassurance he so desperately needed and Qui-Gon afraid to give any at all.

It felt like a lifetime of regret crashed down on him as Obi-Wan cried, unable to stop himself. Qui-Gon still couldn't believe, hours later, how little his apprentice thought of his self worth. Years of pride flowed out of Qui-Gon then, even the Force silent in the explosion. Exhausted, Obi-Wan had collapsed onto the couch, his master slumping into the plush chair across the floor. It wasn't until he heard laughter in his head that he knew what had truly happened.

"Your master is a broken old fool."

"I would rather a broken old fool then a stick toting troll."

He felt the mirth in the very front of his mind. The bond had exploded in light then, stunning his senses and he felt Obi-Wan more clearly in the Force then he had ever felt either of his previous students. Even as his master finally reprimanded him for his earlier offenses, Obi-Wan could feel the touch of warmth send through the bond and hear the laughter his master tried to hide. A few days ago, he would have only felt the sting of the reprimand.

Now, he sat on his bed, one leg bent under him as the other planted itself firmly on the carpet. Next to him, bags both half full and empty. Clothes swarmed the empty spaces of the bed.

Pushing off from the door jam, Qui-Gon made his way into the room. He settled himself across from Obi-Wan, on the other side of the bed. Obi-Wan finished folding an orange silk shirt before setting it on his lap and glancing over.

"A lot a memories over here, Obi-Wan."

"I think it is time to move on. You always talked about letting go of the past, having no attachment. I think I need to start learning that lesson."

Qui-Gon picked up a pink blouse, letting it dangle from his fingers. "I rather like some of these memories, though."

Snatching the pink article from his master, Obi-Wan hastily stuffed it to the bottom of the bag.

"Yeah, well, lets start fresh."

Standing, Qui-Gon strode to the wardrobe. The distance was covered in just a few broad steps. There was a plastic bag still hanging up.

"Obi-Wan." A statement, not a question

The named student looked up.

"Are you tossing this one?"

"No."

Qui-Gon peered over his shoulder. Obi-Wan wasn't upset. If anything, he looked content and understanding, serene even. He wasn't going to keep it for his own sake. He was keeping it for his masters.

Obi-Wan pushed some clothes aside, making a space in front of him. Holding out his hands, he beckoned his master to him.

"I blamed myself for everything that went wrong. You did the same. You spent the last three days trying to heal me. Let me heal you."

Qui-Gon leaned into the wardrobe, taking out the bag that had been stuffed in the back. The thin plastic rustled as he moved to the bed. Mimicking his student's posture, he sat down, gingerly opening the bag between them.

"Is this why you never mentioned you had another student? I didn't know I was lucky number three."

"Yes," said the master, missing the slight joke. "It is a long story, Obi-Wan."

This time it was Obi-Wan who took his master's hands into his own, and smiled.

"I have time."

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So…I want to make an epilogue, but I don't know what kind. How do you want it? Cavity inducing sweet, slashy, one of each, an action packed mission that shows the new level of their bond? Let me know in a comment what you would like to see or if you want more then one (like alternate endings type of thing)


	9. THE END

**Chapter Rating**: K

**Summary**: the epilogue! I know I mentioned two however, as you may have noticed by the lack of updates, things have taken a turn for the worse here in reality. I'm just glad I got this part done. Sorry if it is a let down ending, but, hey, it worked for Harry Potter, right?

**Disclaimer:** If I owned them, I would not be here. I would be in a beach house with my Obi-Wan paid look-alike, sipping a majito on the porch, and getting my feet rubbed by Elrond's twins. Oh yeah, I went there.

**Author note**: I hate Tick Toc…why is it, then, that it has been on repeat at my house for three days? Grrr….

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The city was calm. Light filtered through atmospheric scrubbers, bathing the lower plains with warm light. The city was empty. Buildings stood, doors wide open, in the morning breeze as paper rustled along the ground.

To the edge of the small town, stood a warehouse. Many glass windows had long since fallen out. Shutters, some half hanging, creaked lightly. Along the ground, weeds outshone what little grass had managed to sprout.

Blaster fire exploded from the air, disturbing the gentle peace that had fallen on the empty town.

"Obi-Wan," crackled the two way communicator, "Obi-Wan, can you hear me?"

Obi-Wan ducked his head lower behind the crumbled wall as a bolt sparked past his left ear. Reaching up, he pressed the communicator attached to his ear.

"I hear you, loud and vague."

Another bolt smashed into his make-shift cover, sending rock chips in every direction.

"What is your situation?"

Obi-Wan risked a glance over his shoulder only to duck once more as the rock exploded around him.

"Son of a…I'm pinned on the first floor. Three men with blasters, no hostage. So, how is your day going?"

A chuckle floated through the device, tickling his ear.

"Pinned on the second floor. Four men have blasters and the hostage is in the other room. What happened to your saber?"

"What happened to yours?"

"Mmm." Was Qui-Gon's only response.

"Run for it?" Obi-Wan asked, a hopeful tone obvious in his voice.

"If we run for the exit, it may confuse them."

"My saber is near there. I could always double back."

"On three?"

"Sure. And….three!"

Obi-Wan stood and bolted straight ahead of him, speeding away from the blaster fire. The criminals, shocked, stopped firing as the Jedi retreated.

He ran, faster then he thought he could past the falling pillars to the back exit. Once there, he slid behind another fallen wall. There, half buried under rubble, was his weapon. Snatching up his fallen weapon, he smiled. Brushing off the light coating of dust, the young Jedi flicked the power switch. The weapon hummed to life as he gained his feet.

Turning his attention back to his communicator, he hailed his master.

"I'm back in business, master."

The line was silent.

"Master, do you copy?"

Obi-Wan tensed as he was greeted with the empty crackle. Closing his eyes, he reached through their strengthened bond. His master wasn't hurt. He was still on the second floor as well and…no, he was on the third floor, in the loft. There were only two signatures that he could see.

The silence echoed around the first floor much like the fine layer of dust that had begun to settle. To his left he eyed a hole in the wall. Beyond that, a stair case. With no thought to the criminals currently stationed around him, Obi-Wan dashed through the wall and up the stairs.

No one greeted him once on the second level. Reaching out once more he noticed four signatures making their way down the stairs on the other side of the level. Treading slowly, he climbed over fallen pillars, walls and creaking steel. His master was closer to the staircase the young Jedi had first entered. With any luck, he thought, he could get behind the kidnapper. Reaching the far side staircase, he slowly mad his way up, keeping his foot steps as light as he could manage. Once up the stairs, he began to weave behind the stone and metal walls. As he slid behind a crate, he wondered if the warehouse had ever been a parking structure at one point. Peaking around the corner of the crate, he watched the scene. _I'm right behind him, master._

"You really think you can stop me? You take one more step towards me or try any funny stuff and I kill her!"

The Kidnapper had the hostage, the daughter of the local Queen, clutched to his chest with one arm while the other held a blaster to her head. The young girl whimpered and scraped at his arms, but they didn't budge.

"Alright," said the Jedi master, "I wont move towards you and I wont try anything."

The kidnapper smiled, chuckling low in his throat.

Obi-Wan stepped from behind his crate, his boots knocking over scrape metal. The kidnapper turned sharply, his hostage crying out as her body was jerked around. She stumbled and fell as the kidnapper released her to take a shot at the younger Jedi. In a flash of blue light, Obi-Wan's saber ignited, catching the bolt and, with an infinitesimal twist, sent it between the kidnappers eyes.

The Princess screamed as Qui-Gon made his way across the floor. Kneeling, he clutched the frightened woman to his chest, letting her tears soak into his tunic. Obi-Wan, for his part, stood a polite distance away, waiting. Soon, the young Princess looked up, scrubbing at her eyes as he makeup ran across her cheeks. The elder Jedi helped her stand keeping an arm around her shoulder as they walked to the exit. She shuffled to a stop as they stood beside Obi-Wan.

Glancing up, she sniffled, "thank you," before gazing down and continuing on.

_Master?_

A nudge in return, _Yes, Padawan?_

Here he hesitated, slowly making his way through the rubble a few paces behind them.

_Master I…_ he sighed, feeling the emotions well up once more, _I didn't mean for that to happen. I didn't think he would take a shot at me while he had the princess. It was too risky. For all of us. I can't imagine how she feels._

It wasn't until they had made it to the ground floor that his master responded. _She is in a strange situation. She was put there by someone whom she believed she could trust. Someone who she admired. I don't think you have a lot to imagine._

The young Jedi contemplated a moment before quickly making a decision. He was still healing from his own ordeal of betrayal. He had made great strides with his master, but he still held back. There were some things he just couldn't say, didn't think anyone could understand. Lengthening his stride, he caught up with his master and the young girl. Gently resting his arm over her shoulder, he sent out tiny waves into the Force. While the Princess was not Force-sensitive, she would feel the warmth all the same. He smiled kindly at her as she glanced up at him once more.

"If you want to talk," he whispered, "I'm here."

This time, her smile sparkled in her eyes. Maybe they could heal together.

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And there it is, the end. Up next, the Sith Cat Series:

Obi-Wan vs the Sith Cat, Revenge: Sith Cat versus the Vacuum, and Of Cat Toys and Padawan Braids

Yep, humor and crack is SO much easier to write then all that serious stuff.


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